Our man shuffling uncomfortably in the Daniel O'Donnell queue, a-clutching his tartan tea flask, brings you pearls of wisdom from the mature of mind:
Ooh I wish they wouldn't keep changing the buses. I was sitting on the number 17 last Thursday, no, Tuesday it was, or was it a squirrel? I don't know. You used to be able to tell the shelf the antihisterectomy tablets were on at the supermarket but they've swapped all the fridges round now so you can't even see how far the young ones spread their loud cheek all over the place.
So I said to Margaret, or was it a Friday, 'Where are we going? ' And she says, 'Well, I don't know. The number 35 used to go down Market Street but now it's changed and now I don't know where it goes to anymore. They should have left it as it was. How's that? With two knees? I don't know how she does it. Still, at least he's got his fisherman's friend to fall back on. Have you seen the price of violence these days? There's too much of that nice Mr Allsop. He's very fat you know. He's got a dog that sings parsley and lavender till 5 o'clock in the morning after pills for me angina attack like nobody's business of yours I says. Oh I'd forget my head if it wasn't cut off to spite my stomach. Green cheese? I'll give her green cheese. But not at these prices.'
Are you nosey? Do you listen to other people's conversations and pretend they were 'overheard on the top of the bus'? Or perhaps you have amusing arguments with the voices in your head.
If so, then the Sunday Proust would love to hear from you. Just send us your favourite anecdote, snippet, or imaginary conversation and if we like it we'll feature it right here in Surreal Gossip.
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